Independence Day
by justanoutlaw
Summary: A year ago, Emma jumped into a marriage with the "cunning", Killian Jones. It soon proved to be the nightmare her family feared. Now, she's headed home with her son in tow, ready to move on. She's got more scars than she realizes. Her parents and brothers are vowing to get her through this.


Okay, so I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know if this will be a full fledge story or float around more like one shots. It's a Modern AU, no curse or magic.

I will say this: it is not Hook/Captain Swan friendly. At all. If you like him, you probably won't like this. I won't tolerate hate on this and I especially won't entertain questions asking if they're endgame. (I shouldn't have to say this, but it's happened…) If you don't like him, he's mentioned but he's not going to be shown much. That being said, trigger warning for mentions of domestic violence.

* * *

 _Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing  
Let the whole world know that today  
Is a day of reckoning.  
Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong  
Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay  
It's Independence Day.-Martina McBride_

Emma's heart was racing, she knew she had a limited window. She didn't have to pick up Henry from school for another 15 minutes, but if Killian saw her leaving with suitcases, he'd be suspicious. They weren't allowed to visit her parents, it was on the list of rules.

A 28-year-old woman and she had fucking rules. That should've been the first red flag.

She wasn't packing much, clothes from before the marriage (before he insisted she dressed more like a "housewife"), Henry's things and her baby blanket. As she dug through her jewelry box, she found a smaller white box at the bottom. Slowly, she lifted the swan keychain necklace from it, letting out a tiny breath.

It had been the one thing to survive the fire that had killed Henry's father. Her father had called it fate, Emma wasn't sure if she believed in that anymore.

Throwing on her leather jacket, she took one last look around the room. It wasn't her taste, none of it had been. Killian had decorated the house with his parents' old furniture, saying it was classic. She had mentioned something about buying new stuff, that only got her backhanded.

Killian hadn't always been abusive, at least not from what she remembered. She had met him a year prior, while on a girls getaway with her best friend, Lily. She hated leaving Henry for any reason, but her parents insisted she deserved it. She had been so overwhelmed with her deputy duties on top of single motherhood. He was a bartender and quite the charmer. They talked a bit, but then she was dragged away by Lily to dance.

The next morning, he was standing outside her hotel room with a bouquet of roses. It seemed a bit creepy, but a part of her thought maybe it was romantic. Things took off from there, he persuaded her into going on a date, then another. She returned to Storybrooke, but he'd pop up to surprise her every so often. He never called, he said it wasn't him. He took her to fancy places, they made her feel uncomfortable, but he liked squiring her around town. She didn't want to seem ungrateful.

He proposed 6 months after dating. He said he loved her, he loved Henry. That she was his happy ending. She wondered if he was hers, but before she could say anything else, the ring was on her finger.

They married just weeks later and moved to Boston. Henry wasn't happy, he didn't like leaving his friends. Emma tried to convince him he'd make new ones, that he'd like the city. That didn't seem to happen. He didn't even get along with Killian.

At first, she wondered if it was because he didn't want a father figure. Bae had died before he was even born, but Henry still knew of him. Emma had assured Henry that Killian wasn't a replacement. She thought maybe her new husband was just old fashioned, he had lots of rules for Henry, because he cared. Any time she mentioned that maybe he was going too far, she found herself in trouble.

Killian never laid a finger on Henry. If he had, Emma would've been out of there long before. He never did so much as raise his voice at him, it was as if he knew Emma's limits. She didn't have much respect for herself, but no one messed with her son. Instead, he stuck to making impossible rules, enrolling him in soccer. ( _"All boys love soccer, Emma."_ )

The final blow had happened the night before and she knew she had to get out of there. She hadn't called anyone back home, but they were the only ones she could turn to.

Slowly, she crept down the stairs. Killian was at work. By the time he found out, she'd be long gone. She put her ring in the key dish, one that had never been her style anyway and took one last look behind her. All she could do was pray that he'd never come for her.

* * *

Emma switched from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the judgmental eyes from the secretary. They were the same ones on her the day she had registered Henry. She had looked at Henry's records, then Emma's ID.

" _He's 9?"_

" _Yes."_

" _And you're 27?"_

The unwed teenage mother, it was a label she had been able to avoid in Storybrooke for the most part. Everyone loved her and Henry. It didn't hurt that he was the grandson of the no-nonsense landlord. Sure, some people judged. Some mothers gave her the side-eye when she was the youngest one at kindergarten drop off, but she could ignore it for the most part.

In Boston, everyone seemed to judge. She didn't fit in with the rest of the PTA moms, no matter how many meetings she attended. Henry would never fit in with their kids. They had each other, at least.

The door to the office opened and Henry walked in, raising an eyebrow. She gave him a soft smile, ruffling his hair when he didn't meet it.

"Hey kid," she said. "Let's blow this popsicle stand. You have a doctor's appointment."

He was about to say that he had no such thing, but saw the look in her eyes. He followed her out to the bug and slid into the passenger seat. Craning his neck, he could see the bags piled up in the back.

"Are we going to visit Gramps and Grandma?" He asked.

Emma turned the key in the ignition and bit her lip. "You could say that."

"Is Killian coming?"

She stiffened at his name. "No."

"How long are we going for? February break's not for a few more weeks."

"We're not going on vacation." Her voice came out more clipped than she intended and she could see the confusion in his eyes. She sighed, putting the car back in park. "Kid…we're not just going to visit Storybrooke. We're moving back."

A smile went across his face, the first real one she had seen in a while. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"And Killian?"

"He's…he's staying here."

"Oh." He was quiet for a minute. "You're finally leaving him?"

Finally. That word stung and she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the fact that a 10-year-old could see what she never did.

"Yeah, I am."

"Why?"

"Because sometimes these things just don't work out. Did you eat lunch yet? I can never remember what time they call you out to it."

Henry studied her face. He had learned over the years that she deflected when there was a subject she didn't want to discuss. Whether it was something as small as if Santa Clause was truly real or bigger things, like why she insisted on marrying Killian after barely knowing him. Despite everything, he still trusted his mom. He believed in her…even if she didn't seem to believe in herself.

"We ate already," he said. "Though, I would never say no to ice cream."

A hint of a smile appeared on her lips. "Well, maybe we'll pass a Dairy Queen on the way there." She pulled out of the parking lot, heading in the direction towards the high way. "Henry?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm…sorry."

He's quiet for a moment. He doesn't has to ask what it's for. There have been times where he wanted the apology more than anything. He wanted to run away, scare her as much as she scared him whenever he saw a new bruise pop up on her. He wanted to scream at her for tearing him away from his friends, their family. For marrying the bartender/fisherman and letting him take over her life.

Yet, he didn't want to hurt her, she had been through too much. Still, he couldn't say it was okay or that he forgave her, because he didn't.

Instead, all he could do was turn up the radio.

And she understood.

* * *

There was surprisingly no traffic and even though Emma wanted to get the hell out of Massachusetts, but she was also nervous for what awaited her.

Her younger brother, Neal, was easy, he supported her. He hadn't loved Killian, but he still had been okay with the marriage.

It was her parents and older brother that she feared reactions from.

Mary Margaret and David had tried to tell her that she was making a mistake. They didn't like Killian, something didn't feel right about it. Mary Margaret had even suggested that Killian move to Storybrooke for a bit, so they could get to know each other better before they got married. She had been stubborn, listening to him that they had to do things fast, that it was right. Her parents didn't support the union, but they had been there for her wedding. Their smiles didn't match their eyes and David almost didn't let go of her arm when he reached the altar to give her away, but they were there.

August hadn't shown up at all. He barely responded to her texts or e-mails. She couldn't even be angry with him for it.

Her parents had her young, they were only 18. It was why they were able to support her so much when she came home pregnant at the same age. One of their biggest supporters was Marco Booth. He had helped raise Mary Margaret after her parents' died and Granny got custody of her. He had only become a father late in life, after adopting. He died a few years after Emma was born, leaving his 7-year-old son, August, orphaned. Mary Margaret and David took custody of him, later adopting him.

August and Emma were raised as siblings, thick as thieves. He had helped her through her pregnancy, he doted on Henry. Killian had been jealous of their relationship, clearly threatened by it. He had made sure to drive a wedge between them and she wasn't sure if it could be repaired. She wanted it to, though, more than anything.

With the little traffic, they were driving over the town line just a little over four hours after the start of their journey. She thought Henry might fall asleep, but he was leaning against the window, texting. She had gotten him a phone when he started soccer.

"Henry," she said, breaking the mostly silence they had been under for the drive. "You…you're not telling anyone back in Boston where we went, right?"

"Who would I tell?"

She slowly nodded. "Right."

"I'm just texting with Nicholas. We're gonna meet up tomorrow, if that's okay."

"Of course it is."

She made it to the farm house, parking in the long dirt driveway. She let out a shaky breath as she pulled the keys from the ignition, slowly opening the door. Henry followed behind her and as they reached the porch, he took hold of her hand. She looked down at him with a small smile.

"Ready to see your grandparents, kid?"

"Yeah."

She headed up the steps and slowly knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, Mary Margaret standing on the other side. Her mouth dropped open in pleasant surprise with what was on the other side.

"Emma, Henry!" She grinned. "What do we owe this to?"

"Mom finally left Killian," Henry said, a little more gleefully than he meant to. "Is Uncle Neal here?"

Mary Margaret's eyes widened and she looked at her daughter, who was chewing on her lip, refusing to make eye contact. She blinked a few times before turning back to Henry. "Um, yeah, he's upstairs. You go on."

Henry raced into the house, leaving the two women standing in the doorway. Emma silently walked into the house and without a word, removed her jacket. It was like taking off her armor, revealing the bruises and cuts that lined her arms. Mary Margaret took them all in, her eyes softening.

"Oh baby," she whispered.

Those two words were all it took for Emma to break down crying.


End file.
